Tag: delicious
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In high school, my brother’s girlfriend Lala was like the older sister I never had, never knew I wanted, but was so happy to find.

As we’ve grown our relationship has changed. Big sister/little sister. Peers. Best Friends. And sometimes something resembling employer/employee (I say that lovingly, of course). However, the one dynamic that hasn’t changed is the eater/feeder status.

I bake. Lala eats.

Years ago for her birthday, I brought her a huge Sweet Potato Cake from the bakery where I worked. Late into the evening, we sat at her kitchen table plunging our forks deep into this behemoth. We ate, we laughed and we ate some more. We munched so much that we had to crawl on all fours to her living room where we laid on the couch rubbing our bloated bellies.

I remember feeling warm and fuzzy in a way that only best friends and cake can accomplish.

Happy to be with Lala and share a slice (a couple of slices) of nicely spiced cake with velvety cream cheese frosting.

I hope you’ll make some for the Lala in your life too.

I know that you know that you need to measure out all your ingredients.

Cream together brown sugar and butter. Add eggs one at a time. Add vanilla.

Add mashed sweet potato and crushed pineapple with juice.

Stir in dry ingredients.

Place in a 9×13 inch cake pan that has been greased and lined with parchment.

Bake at 350°F for 30 – 35 minutes until lightly browned around the edges and a toothpick comes out clean. Let the cake cool completely.

While the cake cools, make the frosting. Cream butter and cream cheese. Add powdered sugar. Add vanilla. Blend with a hand mixer or stand mixer until smooth.

Preheat your oven to 350°F and grease a 9×13 inch baking dish. Line the dish with parchment and grease the parchment.

Whisk the flour, baking soda, cream of tartar, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and salt together in a medium sized bowl. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy.

Add the eggs one at a time.

Add the vanilla.

Add the mashed sweet potatoes* and pineapple with juice and beat with a hand mixer until combined.

Mix in the dry mixture until just combined.

Pour into the 9×13 inch baking dish.

Place in the preheated oven.

Bake for 35 – 40 minutes until browned around the edges and a toothpick comes out clean when inserted. Allow to cool completely before frosting.

While the cake is cooling, make the icing.

Frost the cake and decorate as you desire! I used pecans for natural flare!

Notes –

To make the sweet potatoes, wash and dry your potatoes, leaving the skin on. Prick them with a fork and microwave for 10 minutes, rotating them at the five minute mark. Scrape the meat out of the skins and mash it with a fork. Measure out 1 1/2 cups and allow to cool. You may have extra (eat it).

A few summers ago I ran into my first crush. I was in our little town grocery in Maine when, suddenly, I hear my mom squeal with delight. An old friend, a boy we hadn’t seen in years. He looked just the same and when our eyes met, I was immediately transported to the summers of my youth spent nursing a not-so-secret crush. Subtlety has never been a strength of mine.

I am sure he wasn’t transported anywhere. He was probably trying to figure out why my eyes had suddenly glazed over and my mouth hung open while looking nervously at the bottle of sesame oil that threatened to fall from my slackened grasp.

The flashbacks started in. Memories of splashing about in the ocean together, a fuzzy recollection of a piggy-back ride that ended with us piled in a tangle of legs and arms on the sand-coated grass. I remember my brother and I would sneak over to meet him at his grandparents’ house to eat bowls of blueberry ice cream. His tan skin, and bright blond hair, those blue eyes – he was and IS still a knockout.

With each passing summer, the crush intensified. When I was in ninth grade, no longer be-spectacled and porky, I thought, “maybe this summer I say something. Maybe this summer I make my move. It’s time to grow a pair and do something!” But I never got my chance….

In an odd and cruel plot twist to this romantic fantasy, it turns out my blue-eyed childhood crush is actually my blue-eyed COUSIN.

My puppy love was dashed; but, one love remained – the blueberry ice cream from his grandparents’ house. The flavor has stuck with me all these years, and seeing his handsome face and tanned skin…..(stop it!) Well anyway, seeing him again reminded me how wonderful that ice cream was.

This ice cream is crazy creamy with just the right level of sweetness. The blueberries are cooked into a jam-like consistency before they are added to a velvety vanilla ice cream base. It screams summer, it screams Maine, it cushions the blow of finding out you were in love with your cousin.

I hope you’ll make some and share it with the people you love – your friends, your family and maybe even your secret crush or cousin.

Enjoy!

Ice cream is surprisingly simple. It has…let me count…8 ingredients. Did I do that right?

First make the blueberry swirl. Place blueberries in a sauce pot with the sugar and lemon. Stir to combine.

Cook until thick, jammy (and steamy!!). Set aside to cool while you make the vanilla base.

Using a stand mixer with a whisk attachment or a hand mixer, beat the heavy cream until it holds stiff peaks. In a separate bowl, whisk together the whole milk, sweetened condensed milk, and vanilla.

Fold the whole milk mixture into the whipped cream gently. Be careful not to deflate the whipped cream.

Pour the vanilla base into a bread pan, alternating with the blueberry.

Once you have added all the vanilla base and blueberry, run a knife through the pan to create swirls. Place in the freezer and freeze overnight.

Take the ice cream out of the freezer five minutes before you are ready to serve.

Look at that luscious swirl! It’s dreamy.

What a looker! This cousin…I mean cone…is easy on the eyes. One bite and you’ll be in love.

Technically, it was a Bachelor/Bachelorette party, as both guys and girls packed into a house on the North Carolina coastline for a weekend of frivolity.

Per usual, I felt the need to bring something. It comes with my occupation of never a bridesmaid, never a bride – oh, I mean, once a baker, always a baker or something like that.

In addition to biscuits, cookies, and morning pancakes, I decided to make Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Brownies – something a little special for someone little and special, the bride.

I am at that age, you know it, when people start to get married, have kids, buy houses, move away, lose touch.

But she has an often forceful way of keeping us all together.

I’ve always found that brownies accomplish the same. The smell of chocolate and peanut butter manages to dominate stale beer and salty bathing suits, bringing us all to the kitchen to eat together even if only briefly.

So these are for her.

Get out your brownie making ingredients.

Whisk together butter, sugar, and vanilla.

Add eggs in one at a time.

Fold in dry ingredients.

Fold in chocolate chips. Spread brownie batter in a 9in x 13in pan that has been lightly greased and lined with parchment.

Make the peanut butter swirl. Place powdered sugar, peanut butter, melted butter, and vanilla in a bowl.

As he settles on the couch with soccer on TV and newspaper in hand, my mom bustles around the kitchen trying to figure out the coffeemaker, my dad inquires about my brother’s sleep quality, and I am in the kitchen rolling my eyes and sweating over a hot stove of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

At this point in our lives, Bisquick won’t do. These are from scratch pancakes, lovingly measured, whisked, folded, and flipped – fit for a king called Buddy.

As grease pops dot my skin and my glasses smear with butter, I grumble and complain and say things like, “Anything else your highness?” “Did you want that maple syrup warmed?” As second-child sarcastic as I may sound, the truth is I love doing it.

My favorite kitchen memories weren’t made in culinary school or during my time as a pastry chef; but as a daughter, a friend, a sister feeding loved ones in my home. Cooking is about making people happy and pancakes always do the trick.

So here is my recipe for the fluffiest, homemade, Good Enough For Buddy Buttermilk Pancakes.

Make some for someone you love – your romantic associate, a lifelong friend, your parents, or that older brother you wish would visit more often.

I’m a Spider for life. Though I only spent three years at the University of Richmond (after transferring from Chicago), that school, that town, for me, it’s home.

When I graduated, I was far from jazzed. Truthfully, I wasn’t even remotely happy. I didn’t want to leave the creepy little single dorm that had been my snug residence for two years. The thought of giving up my morning run around the lake was devastating. More so, the reality of finally becoming an adult, of trading academic exploration for pencil pushing and rent paying, was starting to sink in and give me cold sweats. (As some of you know, I avoided adulthood by going to culinary school. Sadly, I have now run out of schools to attend but I continue to dodge being a grownup with a passion for pajama clad pizza nights in my parents’ basement and an intentional ignorance about nonsense like W-2s and health insurance.)

Not to be dramatic, but as I navigated the graduation stage with a forced smile, I died a little.

For my post-ceremony festivities, my mom and dad managed to book The Jefferson Hotel – very swanky, very special. My family gathered around a huge white cloth draped and rose adorned table, laughing, joking, all glad to have a reason to be together. Delicious dishes started to appear.

My mom had worked with the staff to create a menu highlighting all my favorites. She must have known I’d need a morale booster when she selected the Peanut Butter and Chocolate Cheesecake for dessert, because with one bite all my graduation gloom disappeared. Crunchy chocolate crust, silky smooth peanut butter filling and a dreamy dark chocolate glaze. I finally felt calm, at peace. As long as I had this crew and this cheesecake nearby, I could handle adulthood – no problem.

Yeah – cheesecake. Begin by making the crust. Stir together cookie crumbs, butter, and brown sugar. Press into a lightly greased spring form pan that has had it’s bottom and sides double wrapped with aluminum. Place in the fridge and chill until ready to fill.

Next, make the filling by creaming together the cream cheese, peanut butter, and granulated sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer.

Once the cream cheese + PB mixture is smooth, add the crème fraîche. Mix that in.

Next add the eggs one at a time until each is fully incorporated. Finally add the vanilla.

Make sure all ingredients are nicely combined, no streaks of peanut butter or pockets of crème fraîche – just one smooth, velvety batter.

Pour cheesecake batter into prepared crust. Place the cheesecake in a large roasting pan filled with about 2 inches of hot water. This is a water bath!

Bake at 325° F for 75 – 80 minutes. The filling should be almost completely set except for a little wiggle in the very middle. Remove the cheesecake from water bath, discard the tin foil and chill completely, about 3 hours.

Once the cheesecake has cooled, carefully remove it from the spring form pan and make the ganache topping.

Place chopped chocolate in a small bowl. Heat the cream in a saucepan over medium heat until it nearly reaches a boil. Pour cream over chopped chocolate and let sit for 1 minute.

Wrap the bottom and sides of a spring form pan with two layers for aluminum foil. Lightly grease the pan.

Make the crust by mixing together, cookie crumbs, melted butter, and sugar. Press into the prepared pan. Place in the fridge to chill while you make the filling.

To make the filling, cream softened cream cheese, peanut butter, and sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer.

Once fluffy, add the eggs one at a time, followed by creme fraiche and vanilla. Mix until completely incorporated.

Remove crust from the fridge and fill with cheesecake filling.

Place the cheesecake into a large deep pan and fill the pan with water. The water should come up the sides of the cheesecake about 2 inches.

Bake for 75 – 80 minutes until the cheesecake is mostly set except for a little wiggle right in the center.

Remove from water bath, discard the tin foil and set on a rack to cool completely – 3 or so hours.

Right before you are about to serve, make the ganache. Place the chopped chocolate in a small heatproof bowl. Warm the heavy cream in a small sauce pan over medium heat until it just reaches a boil. Pour the heavy cream over the chocolate and let sit for 1 minute. Stirring to a smooth consistency. Let the ganache cool for 5 minutes before spreading over top of the cheesecake.

Slice the cheesecake and serve!

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It was 10:40something pm and we were somewhere between Woodbridge and Charlottesville when the rain started coming down hard. I swerved and swayed, a combination of slick roads and sleepy eyes. He seemed nervous about my free-form style of driving but I tried to reassure him.

“We are fiiiine.” “Don’t worry!” “I got this.” I cooed.

All the while internally screaming , “HOLY HELL WE ARE HYDROPLANING – IT IS OVER!!!”

We had decided to take a trip to Charlottesville for a weekend with his college friends and a horse-race at Montpelier, which seemed like a big deal.

I bought a fashion-forward-floral turtle necked purple dress and tall suede boots for the occasion. Would you believe I even curled my hair? I wanted to do well by my guy; but more, I wanted to fit in with all the high society horse people in their quilted vests and long lineage. I was the new kid on the block, the initiate.

Feathered hats, tobacco pipes, the smell of horse and freshly cut grass. Rows and rows of colored tents neatly aligned, shading tailgate food and elderly women from the sun. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before.

A member of our party started to walk around and take bets. A dollar here, a dollar there – I was picking horses based on their names and not their stats, a strategy that was starting to bite me in the ass. I think my second horse kicked off his jockey and ran the course backwards. More crumpled 1’s hit the table.

I needed to snack, I mean shake, this one off.

Our extremely generous, bordering on overly nice, made-my-cheeks-a-little-red-with-their-unbelievable-hospitality, hosts had quite the spread. Smoked salmon and blinis, mounds of fresh fruit, sweets galore, various dips and chips for grazing, an abundance of beer. I think there was even fried chicken! But my favorite of all the foods, the one I couldn’t stop filling my face with, was the Cowboy Caviar.

I’d never even heard of it before but apparently it’s a thing. A dip of black bean budget but caviar taste. I couldn’t get enough.

Eating, chatting, throwing a football, watching a race, betting, losing, winning, eating, eating, did I mention eating? I was happy to be with the world’s nicest people in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. I didn’t want it to end.

Then suddenly, the roar of engines, the “schwwweeep” of collapsible canvas chairs being slipped into canvas bags, tupperware tops snapping shut, hugs, kisses, and goodbyes. Before I knew it, it was a perfect purple-pink-orange dusk and we were packing up to go home.

The ideal afternoon, spent with my favorite guy and his favorite people. An event I am not likely to forget and a dip I am desperate to re-create.

So I did – and here it is:

Chop all the stuff, put it in the bowl.

Add avocado last to keep it FRESH. Whisk together dressing ingredients and pour over top.

Get outside, get tailgating, bet on a horse, drink a beer, eat the Cowboy Caviar and love life.

Once the dip hits the table people will start to pop up. Or it’s just you and your mom doing a weird photo shoot in your yard while your dad snaps the pic from a ladder….

It’s a personality. It’s a feeling. There are cute quirks. Habits. Rituals. Comforts. I am starting to notice more than his outrageous good looks. I am growing fond.

Moments that were just moments are now becoming memories, daydreams. It’s dangerous. Thinking about him makes my skin tingle. Something somewhere on my body is throbbing. Why am I biting my lip?

I wouldn’t call it a routine – maybe a reoccurring event – but I do spy a dopp kit on my sink and an overnight bag in my hall. He comes over, we get white girl wasted, we… well… we um…yes, that, we fall asleep and wake up starving.

I never have food in the house. I’m a come-and-go kinda girl. Here one second, gone the next. Never before needing a reason for rooting. I eat neatly packaged protein-ish bars because I always seem to have them in my purse, in my car, in my bedside table next to the prophylactics, everywhere.

After a night of brain scrambling intimacy, these little treats always do the trick. I grab a few from wherever they are hiding, toss them into bed, and get going on the coffee. He cracks one open, leans back, sheets just covering him, and cheerily chews a cashew-crammed rectangle. I opt for blueberry flavor, knowing it’s sweetness will tickle my cheeks, satiate my hunger, and (I hope) mask my morning breath.

It’s not fancy. It’s not entirely romantic or unromantic. It’s a couple of kids eating sticky, cellophane wrapped, edible geometry in a tangle of sheets, trying to recover from a night of ultimate weirdness. It’s comfortable and (for now) that’s all it needs to be. It’s like the bar. Just right. Just enough. Perfect.

But what is it for you? I’m not saying you can’t get down with a sexy reddish-head too. Please! I recommend it. But maybe you’re just running late for work and need quick breakfast. Maybe you’re hiking Appalachia and require a portable snack. Maybe you’re doing what I’m doing right now – laying on my couch, grazing, mentally replaying the ESPN highlights of our last….interaction. Whatever you’re doing, whoever you are – these bars are delicious and pretty good for you! Nuts, dates, a touch of sweet – so delicious.

I hope you like him (ahem!) THEM…I mean the bars… as much as I do.

Here’s my recipe:

This recipe has so few ingredients and steps I didn’t even know what to take a picture of. That said, you’ll need: a food processor, some cashews, some dates, some vanilla, a pinch of salt, a bit of water, and a can-do attitude.

Put all the things (nuts, dates, salt, vanilla) in the food processor, and pulse until the mixture is small bits. With the motor running, add one tablespoon of water at a time until a sticky, nutty, ball forms.

Shape them however the frick you want. I make a square-ish thing, flatten with a book between two pieces of parchment, and set in the fridge to cool before slicing into bars. But you can roll the mixture in to bite-sized balls, you can make miniature-but-accurate models of Millard Filmore, really whatever suits you.

Put all ingredients except the water in a food processor and blend until the nuts and dates are minced. Add the water one tablespoon at a time until the mixture forms a ball.

Remove the mixture from the food processor and place between two sheets of parchment. Using a book, flatten the mix until it is 1/2 inch thick. Using a pastry scraper, form the mixture into a square. Place the square in the fridge and chill until firm. This will make it easier to cut into bars.

I do bars, but you can do anything you want! Make balls, bars, anything!

Last spring I was in the South, the Deep South. South with a capital “S” – Jackson, Mississippi.

Why I went and how I got there – all a long story – but there I was sitting in a backyardy-feeling bar, talking to a tattooed iron worker, waiting to play corn hole, sweating my H&M-dressed ass off.

My best friend swirled around me like a flower from Fantasia. Bubbly, happy, pretty.

“We need to talk to at least two cute guys before we can go home.”

I’ve always loved how she says everything as a statement, not to be questioned or debated. Of course, two cute guys.

We clomped around the bar’s patio in higher than high heels searching for our targets.

“What about him?” I asked. “He seems alright.”

“No way! He is NOT cute!” she protested.

“Yeah – I guess he has a bit too much face, you know?”

Maybe we were being superficial, even mean, but we had every right to be choosy. We’d both been heartbroken, my friend more recently, me… well …. what had it been? Two years? Anyway, our conversation-only rebounds needed to be knockouts.

After a few hours of successful sloshed socializing and a bunch of “Oh stop!” “You’re too kind!” -ing, it was mission accomplished. Tired and tipsy, we were desperate to leave, desperate for food. Flirting is serious work! We needed something substantial enough to soak up the booze but that was still healthy – we were on the market folks – we needed to keep it tight.

Pasta was the choice fo sho, but what to top it with? Oddly, Vodka sauce (bleeeehh) didn’t seem appealing nor did Parmesan at 3:30am.

My friend suggested mashed avocado. Okay.

Maybe it was the alcohol or the high of successfully talking to two cute guys without mentioning Harry Potter or cats (damnit, there I go again) but that Late Night Avocado Pasta was the tastiest thing.

Healthy, hearty, conscious of the waistline, decadent enough to start soaking up that impending hangover, the perfect reward to share with a best friend after a few too many and an evening of calculated flirting.

And heck, you don’t have to be six sheets to the wind to enjoy it. It’s creamy and filling but light enough for a simple weeknight dinner! For a little extra somethin’ – I add a fried egg. Aren’t avocados and eggs a match made in Mississippi heaven?

As we sat in her living room, PJ clad, cheeks filled to the brim with pasta, I couldn’t help but appreciate my companion, my dearest friend. Confident, beautiful, kind, smart and happy to have a little weirdness (i.e. me) in her life. She will always be my favorite person to split a plate of pasta with.

So this one’s for her!

Make the pasta dough (or use store-bought noodles) but seriously, make the pasta dough. Mix flours and salt together in a large bowl. Create a well in the center.

Add the eggs one at a time, breaking up each egg with a fork before adding the next egg.

Once all the eggs have been added to the well and broken up, add the oil.

Using a fork, start to work the flour into the wet center in large circular motions. At some point it will start to come together into a shaggy mess. I switched to my hands to bring the dough together.

Mix the dough until a ball type thing forms. Dump out onto a floured surface.

Knead the dough with your hands until it goes from shaggy mess to a smooth, firm but elastic ball. Wrap the dough in plastic and set aside to rest for 30 minutes to an hour.

Roll the dough out thin (1/8 an inch) and cut into thin strips, you know, like noodles.

Once all the pasta is cut, gather into bunches and flour the bunches so they don’t stick. Set aside to “dry” for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, make the sauce and bring a pot of water to a boil.

Place the garlic, avocado, basil, salt, and lemon juice into the bowl of a food processor. Turn the processor on and puree until smooth.

With the motor running, add the olive oil and puree until emulsified. Then admire that smooth SAUCE! Set aside while you cook the pasta.

Cook the noodles in the boiling salted water. Add the noodles 2 handful size bunches at a time (don’t overcrowd!!) and cook for 6 to 8 minutes until the noodles are cooked through. (Cooking time will depend on how you cut your noodles.)

Oh yeah, fry an egg or two.

To assemble, place cooked pasta in a large bowl and toss with as much or as little avocado sauce as you’d like.

Plate pasta and top with fried egg.

After a night of boozed-up flirting with southern men Avocado Pasta is the BEST reward. Carbs, jammies, 3am, your best friend – it’s basically heaven.

Make the pasta dough by placing the flours and salt in a large bowl and mixing together.

Create a well in the center of the flour mixture and crack one egg into the center of the well. Break up the egg using a fork. Repeat with remaining three eggs, adding one, breaking it up, adding the next.

Add the oil and mix with the eggs.

Using a fork, start to slowly incorporate the flour into the eggs using big circular stirring motions. Continue mixing until a shaggy mess forms.

Pour the dough out onto a floured surface and knead until the shaggy mess becomes a smooth, elastic but also firm ball. It took me about 3 – 5 minutes of kneading. Wrap in plastic and set aside to rest for 30 minutes – 1 hour.

Once the dough has rested, roll out very thin (1/8 of an inch) and cut into thin noodles. Group the noodles in handful-size bunches and dust them with flour so they don’t stick. While they rest, make the sauce.

Add the avocados, lemon juice, basil, garlic, salt and pepper to the bowl of a food processor. Puree until smooth. With the motor running, slowly add the olive oil and puree until emulsified. Taste for seasoning, if you want to add more salt or pepper or lemon, do it now and blend until combined. Set the sauce aside.

Cook the noodles in plenty of boiling salted water. Add about 2 handful-sized bunches of noodles to the water at a time and cook for 6 to 8 minutes until the noodles are tender and cooked through.

Place the noodles in a large bowl and toss with as much or as little sauce as you’d like and it’s ready to serve!

My preferred topping is a fried egg. I just melt a little butter in a sauté pan, add my egg, salt and pepper and cook sunny side up or over easy. There’s something magical about runny yolk and avocado….

But top it with anything you like, grilled chicken, fresh veggies, shrimp! The options are limitless!

If you’ve read the books and watched the movies as frequently as I have (not likely) you’ll realize food is everywhere in these perfect stories. JK knew what she was doing.

Of all the dishes referenced in the books and imagined on screen the one I was most eager to recreate was Petunia’s Pudding from Chamber of Secrets.

In the movies, it’s this GORGEOUS but very “Petuniaesque” cake with big red cherries and delicate, sugared violets. She adorns it so carefully, so lovingly, just to have it smashed to oblivion. Well done Dobby.

So here’s my interpretation of Petunia’s Pudding and an ode to my longest, most important, and most satisfying, albeit fictional, relationship.

Cream together butter and sugar until it is fluffy. Add the egg yolks and vanilla – mix.

Add 1/3 of the dry.

Add 1/2 the wet. Follow with the second 1/3 of dry, last 1/2 of wet and final 1/3 of dry.

Mix until just combined. Cake batter is the world’s most beautiful unfinished product.

In a separate bowl, whip egg whites until stiff peaks form.

Fold the egg whites into the batter.

This batter is enough for two, 9-inch pans or three, 6-inch pans. I do three, 6-inch with 9oz of batter in each. See, look! Up there!

Bake in a 325° F oven for 25-30 minutes. When the cake is ready it will pull away from the sides and be buttery, golden yellow. Kinda like “Sunshine, daisies, butter, mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!” – Ron.

To decorate, make two recipes of myBasic Vanilla Buttercream. Leave one recipe totally white. Split the other in half. Dye one half green and the other pale purple.

Crumb-coat it in white! Let chill for 15 minutes.

Apply second coat of white frosting – then google a picture of Aunt Petunia’s Cake – cancel all your social engagements and spend your day decorating a cake to look just like it! (Just kidding – it’s super easy – almost like magic – WOOOOAH!)

While I didn’t have a house elf to help me smash this on someone’s head – I did share it with a devastatingly handsome man. We split a piece in the warm glow of candlelight. His birthday, a little surprise, sugared lip kisses – now that’s magic.

I never explored that in between space that my female friends sometimes whisper about and my guy friends scratch their heads over. The ever elusive, the white whale, the successful friends with benefits arrangement. DUN DUN DUN.

But last winter I found myself single and ready to mingle in New York City. So I reconnected with an old friend and we embarked on a brief but enjoyable journey of booty calls and noncommittal horsing around.

On one particular night, I was in my apartment, pajama clad, Harry Potter on TV, baking cookies and thinking nothing of it. I couldn’t sleep so I took to the kitchen as I frequently do.

Then came the text, the shout out into the night, “What are you up to?”

Now people – call me naive but at the time I didn’t know that when a guy asks a girl “what are you up to” after 2:00am – it means “let’s get down.” But now, as Drake has taught us, “I know when that hotline bling, that can only mean one thing.”

I told him I was baking cookies in pajamas and invited him to join. He showed up pleasantly drunk – like “after work drinks drunk” – not “I have a problem and deep seeded confidence issues drunk.” Just sauced enough to hoist me on to my kitchen counter and enthusiastically kiss me while I had a spatula in hand and cookie batter smeared on my face.

As sheet pans clattered and cookies flew, I remember wondering, “why does friends with benefits have such a bad rep?” This was potentially one of the loveliest hookups of my short existence. I didn’t have to put makeup on, there were cookies literally everywhere, he smelled like an appealing combination of expensive beer and melted chocolate. We kissed, we laughed, we ate cookies, and not once did we think, “what are we, should we date?”

Sometimes he stayed, sometimes he left. Sometimes we made out, sometimes we didn’t. Perfect. Simple. Easy. Transition… Just like whipping up a batch of these cookies.

The only thing complicated about these cookies is that I get a little… excited… when I make them. Call it a Pavlovian response or something. Otherwise, baking them, eating them, sharing them, is a total breeze. So make a batch and give it to someone sexy, let your hair down (well, after they are made) and enjoy the uncomplicated pleasures of life, like mackin’ with a handsome gentleman on your kitchen counter. And finally, if ever someone texts you at 2:00am saying, “what are you up to?” know that, “baking cookies,” ain’t a bad response.

Add your eggs, vanilla, and salt. You might not see them but I promise the little vanilla beans are in there! Would I lie?

Okay, honestly.. it looks like a hot mess. But sometimes being a hot mess is okay.

Add your dry ingredients. Mix until just combined.

Aw good, it’s pretty again.

Fold your chocolate chunks in with a spatula.

Using a 1 inch ice cream scoop place little mounds of dough about 2 inches apart on a lined sheet tray.

Place your cookies in a 350° F oven for 10 – 12 minutes, turning the pan halfway through the baking time, until just browned around the edges.

I can’t tell you what will happen next. Maybe a cute guy will text you at 2am and you’ll share a batch. Maybe you’ll eat a tray of cookies alone while watching Blackfish for the 30th time (that whale murdered those people!!!) Either way, they are delicious!